


May you live in interesting times

by Aoichibi



Series: May You Live in Interesting Times [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: A LOT of violence, Action, Action/Adventure, Crazy, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Fluff, Gen, Hatake Family, Hello NINJA here!, Humor, M/M, Mitsuki Potty mouth, Mitsuki should get her own tag too, Ninja Dogs, Self Insert, Swearing, Sweetness, Violence, Yes! they need their own tag!, adding tags as I go, and her own warning, playing with science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoichibi/pseuds/Aoichibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life as a ninja should be full of awesome kill-you-with-a-touch jutsu, powerful friends, and awe inspiring battles where the good guys always win, right? Wrong! It has a deceased mother, suicidal father, a rule obsessed bastard of a brother and the war looming over our heads is not helping matters. Survival is the key. Self-Insert</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, prepare yourselves for the might cliché, for the angst, for the tragedy, for the drama, for the goofiness, the crazy theories of hypothetical stuff, the politics, the fights… or the general life of a ninja as I see it.
> 
> Go read ‘Dreaming of Sunshine’ by silverqueen, 'A Cage of Blood and Circumstance' by shadowsdeep and 'Only a Moron' by swabloo. Best Self Insert fanfics out there! all on FFnet.

Editor HTML Online

**Title:** May you Live in Interesting Times

**Author:** Aoichibi

**Beta:** _I's That C_

**Genre:** Adventure, Fantasy, Humor (I'll try), Drama, angst and a dash o' Tragedy (this is ninja!)

**Shipper:** none as of yet (no plans for romance whatsoever).

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own any Naruto copyrights. (;.;)_

**Summary:** Life as a ninja should be full of awesome kill-you-with-a-touch jutsu, powerful friends, and awe inspiring battles where the good guys always win, right? Wrong! It has a deceased mother, suicidal father, a rule obsessed bastard of a brother and the war looming over our heads is not helping matters. Survival is the key. Self-Insert.

**Author's Notes:** : Well, prepare yourselves for the mighty cliché, the angst, the tragedy, the drama, the goofiness, the crazy theories of hypothetical stuff, the politics, the fights… or the general life of a ninja as I see it.

_**\- Go read -**_ ' **Dreaming of Sunshine** ' by _silverqueen_ , **'Only a Moron** ' by _swabloo_ , and **'A Cage of Blood and Circumstance** ' by _shadowsdeep_. Best Self Insert fanfics out there.

**The image above - used to illustrate this fanfic - is work of jensduchateau and can be founded in his/hers deviantart by the same name.**

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**May you live in interesting times.**

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**Prologue:  
Or how the Gods screwed me over.**

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The sad thing about life is that it's over before you even know it.

My death would have been comical if I could tell someone about it. I couldn't, or I would end up in a padded cell somewhere. It was just sad. Sad, pathetic and stupid. Who dies by being run over by a bicycle anyways?

A bicycle.

A fricking _bicycle._

Me, that's who.

It went more or less like this.

It was a rainy, dark night. I was finally going home after my douchebag of a boss decided to let me leave my dull-as-nothing-else job, when an idiot on an uncontrolled(and lightless, might I add) bicycle came down the slope. The scene was so surreal, so out of the norm, that my brain didn't compute and I didn't move, standing there like a petrified imbecile letting it hurtle my way. I suppose that I hit my head and cracked my skull somewhere on the pavement after the crash because it's all black from there on.

Not a very noteworthy death, I think.

But, after a while, it was not so black and warm anymore.

One of the first things I noticed when I woke up was the cold. _Gods_ , it was so cold. I opened my eyes to see nothing; it was all a big blur; garbled sounds of a language that sounded like gibberish to me and formless, looming, big figures. And then I took notice that I couldn't breathe. There was something in my lungs and it hurt… It burned. I was dizzy, confused, scared and oh gods I was drowning, _I couldn't breathe_ , someone help me! I panicked and screamed.

Well, I suppose that is why no one quite remembers their own birth.

Scary stuff, birth is, especially if you are the one being born.

Somehow I was reborn. Reincarnation maybe? Cosmic joke? I didn't know then - and I still don't-but I was sure that someone up there with the high and mighty gods was laughing their ass off at my misfortune. They didn't even have the decency to erase my memories, no that would be far too much mercy. I was a 23 years old college student locked in the body of an infant having my damned diapers changed and being breast fed.

_Breast_ fed. Have you ever _tasted_ mother's milk?

And my new parents wondered why I preferred the bottle so much.

Not. Funny.

Another thing that I remember quite well of those early and boring days of nothing more to do than cry-eat-cry-poop-cry-sleep rewind and repeat, was the warm stuff that coursed through my body. Every time I turned my attention inwards and 'poked' and 'prodded' at that warmth it would give me a rush like feeling, turning me into a cooing and giggling mass of high-as-a-kite infant for what seemed like hours. At least 'mother' was quite happy on those occasions. I was one happy baby.

One of those times I was playing with it, I tried to move it to specific locations - like my cold feet, for example (hadn't those people ever heard of socks?) Soon, I stumbled upon a quite strange thing, as if this whole reborn thing was not weird enough; there were two different types of 'warm stuff' in me. Oh gods now I'm a mutant. I hope I'm not blue and furry, or something. Please don't let me be furry... Then again, I wouldn't have cold feet if I were furry… But back to the more important, non-completely-crazy stuff.

One part was light and easy to manipulate. It gave off that cozy, warm feeling and I had much more of this one than the other. Oddly enough, it gave me impression that it was blue. I promptly named it 'warm blue stuff.' Yeah I am _that_ creative. Sue me.

The other was heavier, denser, and harder to play with and it gave me the sensations of pinpricks on my skin, as if I'd had a whole liter of coffee… It flowed in the veins, and every time I tried to use it, I would end up with an adrenaline rush of such proportions that I was sure it was _not_ healthy to a baby my age. It gave off impressions of wildness, untamed power and blinding bright white. It was hard and took a bit more time, more concentration, and even more giggling, but I succeed in manipulating it anyway. Nothing to do and boredom go ways into helping you focus onto something to do else you go insane. Following my new, and oh so creative and inspired, trend, I named it 'warm white stuff'.

Later, I came to guess that the 'warm stuff one and two' were called chakra.

As time passed, my body grew, my ears opened, and my vision became clear. Unfortunately, it was also as time passed that I came to find that I was screwed three ways to Sunday.

When I was first taken out by 'father' for a sun bath in the early morning light, what I saw almost gave me a heart attack. Yep, ladies and gentlemen, that was _not_ Mount Rushmore up there _missing_ a head and I was _not_ in Kansas anymore.

I was ecstatic at what I saw, and what I realized what it meant. I was a ninja. An honest to gods walking-up-the-walls-and-breathing-fire-mud-wind-lava-and-gods-only-know-the-fuck-else freaking _ninja._ And to top it all off, I had been born, or reborn as it was, in _the_ best shinobi village to have ever existed. Konohagakure.

I was living a dream!

I was an _idiot_.

Months after that oh-so-fantastic revelation, a team of three pre-teens and an adult came to our home. A genin team, as far as my knowledge went. I had not seen 'father' for days and now 'mother' was coming down the stairs dressed in a jounin or chunin uniform (what is the difference anyway). It was a bit different of the anime uniforms, the green vest for one was away more bulky and had less pockets, and she didn't wear the blue sweater like thing under it. My older brother was perched on her hip. Poor kid always looked like he stuck his hand in a plug socket, the way his hair defied gravity. If the gods spare any mercy on me at all, please let it be through me _not_ inheriting that hair.

She talked a bit to the strangers in the house gave them a few sheets of paper, put the toddler near me in the padded playpen that took up most of the space in the corner of the living room and looked at us with those warm and pretty blue eyes of hers. She said something in a ridiculous baby-version of that language that I still could not understand, kissed both of our heads, and left through the window.

That was the last time I would see 'mother.'

The funeral of 'mother,' Hatake Naomi-and I use the term "funeral" lightly because there was not a piece of her left to be cremated-I discovered later that an enemy had made an ambush while she was on a mission and killed her. Mother was now nothing more than a few pretty symbols engraved on a piece of polished rock. That day was also the day that my rose tinted dream came crashing down on my head and I realized that ninja life was not fun and games and that people died here. Messily, painfully…lonely… I didn't want that for me. But I didn't think I would have much of a choice. The third great ninja war was coming, and it would spare no one.

My name is now Hatake Mitsuki, younger sister of Kakashi aka Onii-tan, daughter of Sakumo aka the White Fang of Konoha. I'm 8 months and a few days old, my dream is to live to see old age, and this is my fucked up story.

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**To be continued…**

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	2. A Hatake life

**Title:** May you Live in Interesting Times

**Author:** Aoichibi

**Beta:** xl3utterflyx

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Naruto copyrights. (;.;)

**Summary:** Life as a ninja should be full of awesome kill-you-with-a-touch jutsu, powerful friends, and awe inspiring battles where the good guys always win, right? Wrong! It has a deceased mother, suicidal father, a rule obsessed bastard of a brother and the war looming over our heads is not helping matters. Survival is the key. Self-Insert.

\- **Go read** , ' **Top of the Tree** ' by _CupcakeLoopy_ (It's has a very interesting story line) and ' **Pulling The Strings** ' by _Hubris Plus_ (this one happens in Suna which is quite different as most S.I tend to focus on Konoha).

**Author's Notes:** Hello everybody! I would like to thank those who favorite and followed, and to send chibikisses and hugs to the ones that **reviewed.**

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**May you Live in Interesting Times**

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**Chapter 01:**

**A Hatake life**

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Life as a baby in the Hatake household was both terribly aggravating and unbearably funny. Between my mother hen of a father (he probably thought that I was made of glass or something… seriously) and the awkward questions coupled with crazy stunts of my genius brother, – once father caught him upside down hanging on the living room wall glued by the soles of his feet, 'Dad, look what I can do!' Kakashi said. The poor man almost had a heart attack right there – I laughed so hard that I barfed… (ew). Infancy was never boring.

I think that father took leave of his shinobi duties or something, because he was at home every single day, which had never happened before.

It was now fathers thankless job to change my diapers (oh, the indignity), he put them backwards more times than I cared to count- I wonder who changed Kakashi when 'mother' was not around. He should have learned by now- and they promptly fell off. I would crawl naked all over the place until Sakumo noticed, looked at my nakedness in pup-like confusion and changed me again. I had nap time in the afternoons when Kakashi was away at some short of classes for geniuses or something. No worries about food, just one little cry and father would come running, literally. Fun times.

What was not funny was father's fascination with my feet. Three days ago I was minding my own baby business in the living room, - which by the way seems to be the most used room in this house - lying on my belly looking at a picture book - joy - with my little legs bending and swinging in the air; and out of nowhere comes that silver haired devil of a man and he snatched one of my cute and innocent little feet and held it hostage. He then proceeded to tickle me to death…

My feet...

The hell man?!

I made a point to barf _on him_ that time.

I don't think he quite got the message, though, because he keeps doing it.

Another crazy situation was when father came out of the kitchen humming a tune along with the music coming from the kitchen radio - the only radio of the house, by the away – before he picked me up and promptly started to dance around the living room, twirling every now and again making a line back into the kitchen where he stopped, looked at my 'WTF?' face, grinned and stuck my newly filled milk bottle into my mouth. Sakumo had been hit one too many times on the head. I swear.

There was that one time when I was (stubbornly) trying to walk and lost my balance when my legs gave out on me and ended up hitting my chin on a small, decorative table that held a flower vase. The vase fell off, thankfully not on me, and I had a brand new cut on my upper eyebrow. Sakumo was there in a flash, alerted by the noise. His face when he looked at me with blood running down my chubby face was so horrified it that made me instantly cry. He cursed and carried me to the hospital… the hospital, because of a small cut ( _the hell_? I hadn't cracked my skull open again, ya know)… next day all the vases in the house had mysteriously disappeared and the poor table was now nothing but charred remains in our backyard.

Yeah, talk about _over_ protective.

**-XXX-**

Variety of baby friendly food was quite low in this house, and as I hated that mush baby stuff that tried to impersonate food and looked like squished poop and tasted even worse.

I had made a point of throwing that at Sakumo's face when he tried to make me eat it.

I had limited my already limited food options even more, so I came up with a little plan.

I had this white dog plushy with floppy ears and fluffy fur since the day I was born. I think it was 'mother' who gave me that one, (I named it Sesshomaru, but nobody needed to know that) so I started to drag it around for an increased cuteness factor when I was fucking tired of milk for breakfast, milk for second breakfast, milk for lunch, milk for second lunch, and for dinner, and for second dinner and for my little snack at ungodly hours of the night and wanted a piece of Sakumo's yummy, tasty food that was not milk. I would point at his food and then open my mouth all the while holding one of the plushy paws and open my baby blue eyes wide for more of the cuteness effect. He would 'aww' at me and give me little pieces of whatever he was eating at the time.

Always worked.

Every. Single. Time.

Heh, I was Daddy's baby girl alright.

Frankly Sakumo's 'keep going' attitude amazed me. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks since his wife died in the line of duty and the man was playing about with his children with the biggest smile I had ever seen. Sometimes I would catch him watching me and Kakashi play about with toys- soft rubber shuriken and kunai included. Yeah I got the hint thankyouverymuch - or just running around . Well, brother walked and I crawled after him, with such warm loving eyes that I couldn't help but to love the man right back. Hatake Sakumo was just _that_ lovable and sweet. He would give me diabetes one of these days. I never, ever, wanted to lose him.

I never had a father 'before'. I mean I had, I wasn't born by mitosis after all, but I didn't grow up with one. The guy paid for my up keep and sent me presents on birthdays and holidays and did his basic job all around. He had a peaceful understanding with my mum and his other family. But he was never there for me. Not like Sakumo was at any rate. It was just mum and I most of the time or with an odd boyfriend or the other until I got myself run over by a bicycle (I will never live it down) and ended up here. Poor mum, I wonder how she is holding up without me.

As far as fathers went, I think I got _the best_ one out there, this time around.

I'm so making one of those 'bestest daddy in the world' cards for father's day. When I learn how to write. Do they even have father's day here?

One of my biggest problems with being a baby was not the lack of freedom nor the embarrassing moments, it wasn't even the boredom... But the war that raged on between my mind and body. At times it would feel like there was an alien entity with me in this body, seriously. If I was spooked my first reaction was to cry, my mind didn't even have the time to process what had just happened and I was already crying or barfing or squealing, I'm not even going to touch the subject of incontrollable bowel movements. If the body wanted to pee, it _would_ pee, the end, no questions asked, not mattering how much the mind protested. How embarrassing.

_Shame_.

If chakra was a balanced combination of physical energy, that is produced by our bodies through bazillions of cells, and spiritual or mental energy which is gained by experience, I wonder what a mess my chakra circulatory system was and what kind of consequences I would suffer from that. Because with my 23 (24 now, I think) year old mind and my baby body, balanced energy was something that I definitely didn't have. And in a world of chakra wielding ninjas if I had trouble with mine I would be defenseless, a sitting duck. It was troublesome. And _very_ worrisome.

After my 1st birthday on the 22nd of November - whee a whole finger of age! Progress!-Somehow Kakashi got it into his, crazy, prodigious head that as he was the oldest, by two whole years, making him three, - almost an adult, he was, I thought cynically - it was his job to teach me everything. That was when the learning games started.

My starved adult mind almost cried in happiness.

If I knew what kind of troubles Kakashi's 'teaching ideas' would give me down the line, I would have made myself look like a retard.

Word games with Kakashi was an interesting activity, we would sit on the floor in front of each other, he would pick up wooden blocks and form the chosen word of the day. Then the silver haired boy would point out the object or mimic an action – like eating - and then he would mix up the blocks again and sit back. I then had to pick the correct blocks and put them in the right order – most difficult part of the game- and point out the correct object or do the mimic. If I did everything right we would proceed to another word and if I was wrong we would repeat the whole process. This game could go up to 5 words or more per afternoon. Also as we went by our day, brother would point out things and say their names aloud and then try to make me repeat. The first few tries got me so frustrated with my uncooperative vocal cords that I cried and sulked. Poor Kakashi. I think I scared him with my little temper tantrums. He almost gave up.

The first word out of my mouth was something like 'to-tan', not the most stellar attempt, but hey, it was my first word! Go me! Father was so happy that he swung me around while laughing. I was so relieved that I glomped Kakashi, sending us both crashing to the floor. Father has a picture of this day.

When my second word was Onii-tan, it was brothers turn to smile, and to thank him I gave him a big wet kiss on the cheek. He got so pink in the face and gave that boyish 'ew' look that I just had to do it again and again. Father also took a picture of this and promptly put it onto the kitchen fridge.

That day I found my new hobby - make Kakashi go all red and ewy. He was just so unbearably cute.

And that single _dimple_ … squee!

**-XXX-**

By one years old, all babies had at least a modicum of hair on their heads, like a baby chick plumage. So what peeved me to no end was that I had none.

_Not. A. Single. Hair._

NONE.

All my newborn hair had fell off a few weeks ago and nothing had grown in its place. I was never one for too much vanity or one to spend ages in front of a mirror, but damn it! I looked like a bowling ball with my head all shining and round. I was starting to worry - seriously worry - that I was going to need a wig. Did ninjas even have use for wigs in first place? With all that transformation jutsu they had I was beginning to despair. Well, at least I had a consolation prize in the form of blue eyes in place of the hazel ones that I had 'before'. But I still despaired, I wanted my old lush brown hair, damn it.

Give it back, Gods! Gimme!

As my mouth started to cooperate with me things got way easier.

I had an advantage as my adult mind could pick things up and put them together far easier than a child's, and I had an early start as I already knew a few Japanese words as every anime fan is prone to know - none of them useful in this 23(24?) year old stuck in a baby's body situation by the way; I wouldn't be calling someone baka, aho, usuratonkashi, konoyaro or teme any time soon – and when I had previously been alive, I was beginning to formally learn Japanese. So I knew how their language was basically structured and how it worked.

Three different alphabets: Hiragana and Katakana that were both phonetic alphabets, Kanji which consisted of thousands of different symbols, all which had many different meanings in accordance to how you combine them and in which sentence you put them. And God only knows how many different types of counting… one type for counting animals (Hikki), another for humans (Nin), other for big object (Ma), one more for small object (Ko), child specialized (tsu)… Gods why couldn't they be satisfied with just one type? Why complicate simple, basic things such as counting?

Yeah, I had my work cut for me.

As I progressed with my ever growing vocabulary, and motor coordination, I could finally walk. More like wobble really, but I could move around on two legs. Freedom sweet freedom! How I adore thee! And with that neat little ability came one of the monsters of my toddlerhood.

Open toed sandals.

Open toed _ninja_ sandals.

Jesus fuck man, give a woman a little break why don't you, they made them _that small_? Seriously what size was I, zero or something? They were uncomfortable, way too flat, atrocious looking, they made my feet hot and my toes cold and those dastardly bandages were squeezing my poor, innocent little ankles to death! Freedom of movement man, have they even heard of it? A fashion disaster all around.

Why God? _Why_ must you hate me so?

I was starting to have a _little_ problem with the Gods up there.

My adorable older brother also had the _brilliant_ idea to teach my one year old self how to do simple and easy additions and subtractions, which was way above the capacity of what a toddler my age could do, so I had the beyond tedious and completely mind numbing task of err every single damned math problem he gave me. Having to blow two plus two was so deplorable that it gave me almost physical pain. Brother never figured out why I twitched so much in those 'math classes' of his. But if it would make Kakashi happy I would do them anyways.

Kakashi's baby smiles were something that I would _kill_ to maintain.

I was being taught how to spell, speak and put numbers together by my 3 year old brother… the wonders of having a certified genius at home.

_Joy_ …

I'm sorry to say that my pride did not survive. Poor thing.

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**To be continued…**

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**A/N:** Holy shit, I made another chapter without a single dialogue. I don't know whether to fell pride or go jump of a bridge somewhere.

So guys any thoughts you would like to share in a _**comment**_?


	3. A Hatake life II

**Title:** May you Live in Interesting Times

**Author:** Aoichibi

**Beta:** xl3utterflyx

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Naruto copyrights. (;.;)

**Summary:** Life as a ninja should be full of awesome kill-you-with-a-touch jutsu, powerful friends, and awe inspiring battles where the good guys always win, right? Wrong! It has a deceased mother, suicidal father, a rule obsessed bastard of a brother and the war looming over our heads is not helping matters. Survival is the key. Self-Insert.

**-** **Go read** **\- 'Hacia el sol' by** _lucife56_ **(** Very nice. **) and 'Cleaning no Jutsu' by** _Erisah Mae_ **(** It's not of the 'dropped/ born into Naruto-verse style, but is a good O.C read, none the less. **)**

**Author's Notes:** Once more THANK YOU **everybody who reviewed** and those who sent their love through  favorites and followings. ChibiKisses to all.

**Don't forget to vote on the poll.**

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**May you Live in Interesting Times**

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**Chapter 02:**

**A Hatake life II**

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I think that one of the reasons that no one actually remembers their early childhood is probably because of the traumatic episodes that happen one after the other.

First the birthing itself, then comes the crazy language and after that whatever your insane parents/siblings decide to do with you. And just when you think that the worse is finally over, they come.

Teeth.

It started with a simple itch that came and went without much fuss, but it got worse.

Way worse.

Forget dying, rebirth, breast feeding, genius brother, crazy father and insane reality. Teething was the worst thing in the freaking universe!

It aches.

It itches.

_It hurts_.

I couldn't scratch with my hands because the itch was inside the damn skin. The only thing that helped a little was if I bit down onto something, and those rubber toy kunais were my victims. I bit onto them so hard and so frequently that I had blood running down my chin after two days.

I was _that_ desperate.

It was driving me bloody insane! I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, everything hurt, I had a headache the size of the Hokage mountain and I couldn't do anything because the damned thing wouldn't leave me alone for a single minute!

As I had nothing to make it stop, the next 'logical' step was… to cry.

And cry I did.

By the end of the week our whole household of three had dark bags under their eyes and father had had enough. Looking at my miserable face he said:

"I don't know what to do with you anymore; it's time to bring in reinforcements."

The 'reinforcement' came after an hour, in the form of a big breasted, blond haired, bad tempered, brown eyed woman that barged in, slamming the front door open and calling out.

"SAKUMO! Where the heck are you? If you got yourself impaled by something again I swear I'm throwing you in the lake!"

Lovely woman…

"Good morning to you too, Tsunade," Father said as he came from the door that lead to our back yard.

A shiver ran down my spine at that name. It was not incentive to let go of my chew toy either.

"Huum… you don't look impaled to me…"

"Nope," father smiled, unrepentant.

"Then why did you send that infernal summon of yours to get me?"

"… its my kid, you see…"

"Kakashi? What is wrong with the little brat?"

"… err there is nothing wrong with your godson. It's Mitsuki-chan actually, she…"

Say what? Wait stop, back track. Kakashi is what? Of who?

That explained so much.

"Mitsuki?"

I thought that was a good point to introduce myself and gurgled from my spot on the floor, toy still clenched tightly between my gums.

She turned and looked at me for a few seconds with a disturbed expression and…

"Oh my God, it's multiplying..."

I felt like I should be offended.

"Oi, I heard that! Anyways I heard that you were finally in town and… "

"Wait, stop. Let me get this straight. You had another kid and you didn't have the decency to tell me? Have you told Jiraya? Kushina? Hell, anyone?... Sakumo…" That last word rolled out of her mouth like a growl.

"I told Koharu-sensei"

Who?

Tsunade had a deadpan expression. "That explains why you got a leave this long..."

"Well, you see… It… they are saying that we're puppeteers in the ambush that got Naomi and… I don't know… she is just so fragile, so small and I…" Dad made a few hopeless gestures with his hands at my general direction.

Well, that explained why I never saw anyone around.

Tsunade singed and pinched the bridge of her nose "Kami save me from paranoid shinobi."

"It's not paranoia if they _are_ out to get you!"

"Be quiet, you!" she snapped at my father and turned to me, looking straight into my eyes, I held her gaze, her own eyes softening as she smiled and picked me up. "What's the problem, kid?"

I gurgled again.

With a movement that I couldn't quite follow, she pulled the toy out of my mouth, threw it aside and held my mouth opened with the same hand.

Da fuck?

"She has been crying nonstop since two days ago and won't let go of that toy." Dad passed a hand trough his long hair in frustration "Kakashi never did that, I don't know what to do."

"Huum, she's teething. Her gums are really inflamated but it's nothing serious."

She stuck a glowing green finger into my mouth, I had half mind to bite it but I was too stunned with the cooling, shooting feeling of the green glow that it struck me.

I yawned.

"She is just having a stronger reaction than most kids, it will pass."

Father sighed in relief.

The pain had finally stopped and I was suddenly so sleepy. I lay my head down on that soft cushy chest; she smelled nice.

"Where is her room? Let's put her to bed and then we are going to have a little talk."

**-XXX-**

The sky was blue with fluffy white clouds, the sun was shining extra bright, the birds singing, a nice cool breeze was passing through the small window ruffling my straight hair…

My _very_ silver hair.

The same silver hair that was very thin and straight…

But more like STRAIGHT UP! And in every other direction know to man but _down_.

Oh Gods, why? Why? I was being a good girl, I was learning my letters and doing my numbers, heck I was even eating that green vegetable mushy mix (ew) that Sakumo got into his head that was health for kids (die Tsunade, die a painful death) - at least Kakashi was suffering from that as well- so why? Why did you decide to punish me with this _atrocious_ hair?

As if that was not enough, Sakumo had to be passing down the hallway and seeing the 'bathroom' (Frankly I wouldn't call that a bathroom, as it didn't have a toilet; more like a inverted lavabo, with a old fashioned wooden bath and a sink, the toilets were outside… _lovely_ \- in lack of a better word) door open, he came to check what was going on and found me on top of Kakashi's bright red and yellow little kid ladder, glaring at my reflection in the mirror.

"Is there something wrong my little tanpopo?"

"No, tou-tan," I grumbled.

Then it occurred to me. "Wha'a tanpopo?"

"Ah, it's a... Flower, I suppose…Well it's better if I show you; we should have a couple of them outside."

He then picked me up and went down stairs, passing through the living room and going out towards our back yard, putting me down on the polished wooden floor of the Japanese styled veranda.

The Hatake house had two floors and was long rather than wide with various rooms and narrow hallways. It was very clean and brightly lit, which made me wonder who the heck cleaned this house, 'cause in all of these months I haven't seen a soul cleaning those floor boards, and there was a shit load of them. The tatami mats, low tables, paper sliding doors and the earthly oriented color scheme gave an old feel to it.

I liked it. I Liked it a lot. The feeling of belonging to generations of people that lived in this very house warmed my heart. 'Before' I lived in a small, rented, apartment in a busy, overpopulated city, so this whole lineage thing was a novelty that I much appreciated.

Dad walked down the three little steps that separated the house from the lush green grass that covered a good part of the Hatake grounds. He continued walking, passing by the training posts and over the small bridge that crossed the koi pound; I lost him from my line of sight when he went around the small dojo. Minutes passed, and by then I had lay down on my stomach, legs spread in a split, arms under me, (the wonders of being young; toddlers don't have bone… we are made of rubber) the picture of boredom.

I was starting to get impatient when I heard …

"Aha!"

He came back faster, one hand behind his back, hiding something. I got myself out of that position and sat down like a normal person...

Kneeling in front of me, Sakumo smiled.

"Well, this is a tanpopo," He showed me his hidden arm and in his hand there was...

A dandelion…

A bloody damned _dandelion_!

And to add insult to the injury, he pointed to the flower saying: "This is a Tanpopo," then pointed to my _hair_ , "Looks like a tanpopo," and then he poked me in the belly making me let out a involuntary squeal. "Tanpopo-chan," he said with a big, innocently pleased smile.

"You know. If it had of been me who named you - like I did your brother -instead of your mother, that would be your name. Hatake Tanpopo has a nice ring to it, no?"

My eyebrow twitched, my mouth hit the ground. It was official, my father was bloody insane- but before I could have any other reaction Kakashi called him from upstairs. Giving me the flower Sakumo went to see what my brother wanted.

Hatake Tanpopo… like 'dandelion of the farm land'…

_Un-fucking-belivable_

Yeah, needless to say, that the menace that I called dad was a constant victim of food projectiles that had suddenly acquired _a thing_ with his face.

I made sure to send a big prayer up to 'mother', thanking her for having the sense of naming her baby girl after the moon and not some dastardly little weed like flower.

Brother, I feel sorry for you... seriously, _very sorry_.

**-XXX-**

Konoha climate was very comfortable for most part of the year, not too cold but not too hot either. But as winter arrived there was no snow to account for but a sudden drop of temperature and freezing rain that came out of nowhere more than made up for that.

And when things got cold in this village, all of its inhabitants were of one mind: 'To the bathing houses!' It wouldn't be a problem for any other eighteen month old little toddler, but for me…

It was, in one word, _traumatizing_.

Dad carried me propped on his hip and Kakashi, much to his complaint, stuck under one arm – poor kid. It was the first time that I had set foot –a proverbial one, as Sakumo wouldn't let me down- out of our house. We lived in a far end of the village surrounded by trees and old clan houses, so I was very amazed with all the sights – Konoha is a odd place alright. The quite tall, brightly painted buildings that looked like they were made out of wood; streets with no pavements whatsoever, but the stores had electricity, and there were energy cables circling the buildings – in one word: odd; market stalls with colorful kimono dressed people buying and selling things; interesting new smells –so many different scents that I was almost dizzy- in the air, some good, some bad, (was that horse manure? Ew!); no pollution what so ever; the odd ninja perched on a roof talking to another one on the other neighboring roof.

As we didn't go very far the walk should have only taken ten minutes, but I didn't account for father's popularity. Gods it was like I was in the arms of a huge celebrity like Madona or Lady Gaga from 'before'. Everyone shouted their hellos or came to talk to father. Then later, when coming closer, they would first notice Kakashi, and then start to babble on about how big and how much like father he was becoming and what not. And then they saw me. I had never had my cheeks pinched so much that I swear they would fall off.

I sent dad a mutinous look and he could only make a sheepish face and say : "Sorry pup, we are almost there." And I could only thank the Gods that I had a genius for a brother when Kakashi came with a solution after the nth grandma came to babe us. "Imotou they would bother us less if you pretend to be asleep."

So with my eyes closed and face hidden by dads neck, I had not seen where we were going nor did I see the big plaque announcing the name and function of that particular establishment.

I only snapped my eyes open when dad seated me on a wooden bench inside what seemed like a locker room and began to take off the little blue kimono that he had dressed me into, leaving me only in the small shorts that I had under it. I was quite dumbfounded with his actions - Kakashi was already naked - but my eyes almost popped out of my head when dad started to take of his clothes… niiiice stomach… Oh Gods! Someone please kill me now! I so did not need to see _that_.

If I didn't know it already, I could now be quite sure that his silver coloring was natural…

But… _Damn_ …

That was when I noticed the scars, there was a whole lot of them - a whole shit load of them- from big to small in all different depths and lengths, but three in particular got my attention: a big one on his left shoulder made me think that someone thrust a roundish weapon _through_ him. I shuddered; a big, old, burn mark on his right thigh made me wince. Whoever said that scars were pretty has not seen that one; and the other, thinner one – thanks God- that almost divided him in a half, went from one side of his waist to the other. Someone had probably tried to gut him.

_Someone_ tried to gut him.

I paled.

_Shit._

We ended up not staying too long; I was so out of it– had I become so comfortable that I had forgotten where I was?- that dad thought the too-hot water was causing me a little trouble. Kakashi on other hand, had quite fun splashing about in spite of his earlier protest about losing training time. He should take a break already. That many hours of log punching and kicking should not be healthy to a three – almost four! - year old.

Obsessed kid.

**-XXX-**

As weeks passed, I now could safely walk without having to stop to rest every ten steps or so. Dad thought it was now time for my lazy and comfortable days come to an end.

Whee… _not._

He picked me up from my room and went to Kakashi's which was across from mine, (dad's was in the middle, at the end of the hallway) put the poor kid under his arm, again, and went on his merry way to the dojo, all the while ignoring brother's protests and whining - that he was big enough and knew how to walk so would father please put him down. When that didn't work he started to wriggle like a worm to try and get free.

That didn't work either.

It was the first time I had been in the dojo. I knew it existed but never set a foot inside.

The dojo was a small building made of wood with a tall roof. Unlike the house there was no tatami mats to speak of and two of its sides were made of rice paper that pictured, in soft colors, a farm land (surprise!...not). In front of me was a wooden wall that was home of two unrolled scrolls, which had something written that I could not understand. I still couldn't read. Near those scrolls as a double set of what I remember to be daishos, which consisted of three swords. The one at the botton was a katana - also the longest one-,in the middle we have the wakizashi and on top there was the tanto, the smallest sword of the three. The joys of being a geek and an information hoarder I suppose. The set on the left side had dark colored scabbards and the right one had light colored ones. This set was also missing the top sword.

Father's tanto.

Both sets of daichos and scrolls framed a silver made statue of a wolf - it could be a dog also, there was no way of knowing - with details like wings on its front paws and shoulders. Ears raised at attention, like it was hearing something. On its forehead was a blue symbol of a circle with four spikes facing inwards and on the wolfs back was a big, 'floating', disk that was emitting lightning, the same lightning that was coming out of three of its paws that touched and crawled all over the wooden support and also made some short of thick, spiked collar around it's neck. The remaining front paw was a bit raised as if the wolf was walking. Its head was facing us with a serious expression.

It reminded me, uncanny, of that game 'Okami'… how odd.

Kakashi was unceremoniously dumped on the dojo floor in front of an odd smelling - not bad, just odd- folded piece of cloth. Father put me delicately on my feet.

"Hey! What's with the preferential treatment?"

"Well, _you_ are all _grown up_ and _so big_ that I don't need to baby you anymore, no?"

"Humpf." Poor Kakashi had such an annoyed look on his chubby face that I could only laugh.

I turned around to see if there was something else on the wall behind me and gasped.

On that wall were a lot of pictures painted on the wood. Human images in various positions; crouching, jumping, in fighting stances, even one with its back to us… with targets in every vital or potentially fatal point.

Six perfect faceless human like targets.

_Oh Gods_.

I fell down on my butt.

"Dad, show Mitsuki what you can do! Show her!"

I turned my head to face my brother's direction he had an exited look in his eyes and was almost bouncing in place.

"Huum… let's see what I can do..." My father said while softly rubbing his chin.

I stared… _what?_

Thump… thump, thump thump thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthu mpthumpthump.

Kakashi clapped. I turned and counted, twelve kunai, all embedded in vital points of the six different paintings; perfect bull's-eyes, two per image. Six 'dead' targets.

I didn't even see him move and _I was looking at him!_

"My turn!"

"Only one Kakashi, we have work to do."

_What?_

"Okay."

I looked once more at my almost four year old brother. He adjusted himself and picked something out a small pouch on his back and threw.

Thump.

Bull's-eye.

Kunai strait to the heart of the target.

_Good God_.

"Ne Mitsuki, do you want to try?" Kakashi said looking at me with eager eyes; I looked at Sakumo to see expectancy looking right back at me.

Did I even have a choice?

"I…I dun'nu how…"

"Well, that can be quite easily corrected," father said in that deep voice of his while crouching near me. "Give me one of yours Kakashi," brother passed over a wooden kunai to dad who showed me the correct grip and then the weapon was passed to me.

When one thinks 'wooden kunai' we pass it off as harmless as it didn't have any kind of sharp edges, a child plaything, but we forget the tip. The roundish tip that was thin enough to penetrate and stick to a wall. Just imagining what that thing could do to a human skin made cold sweat break out on my back.

Father adjusted my grip.

"Kakashi, why don't you show her the correct stance?"

The little boy promptly positioned himself all the while telling me to put my leg this way, bend my knees like that, your wrist should rotate like this. I mimicked him.

A three year and eleven months old little boy was teaching and almost one year and eight months old little girl how to throw a potential lethal weapon and father was smiling with _pride_ …

Someone _please_ wake me up.

"Now just choose a target!" brother was waiting, I swallowed dryly.

Without thinking too much I choose the belly and my chubby little arm shot forwards and released the 'toy'.

Thump.

Not a bull's eye or anything but I had hit the target. The utmost corner of the least red circle, but _I had hit it._

"Nice hit little one," father praised me, his hand on my head.

"You did it!" Kakashi shouted in glee while father picked me up and threw me in the air.

I had just stabbed at a hypothetical person, _a person_.

I think I am going to be sick.

"Well, playtime is over. Today we are cleaning the dojo."

_Playtime?_

"Again? Dad we did it last week!"

That answered my questions about this place's top cleanliness, slave labor in the form of the guy kid, or kids, seeing as I was here too.

"Yes, but today is special as it is the first time Tanpopo-chan is joining us. "

"… Tanpopo?" Kakashi looked at me, his eyes trailed up to my, shorter than his, puff looking hair. He snorted and then fell down laughing his face off.

"Shadup!" I whined, yet grateful to have something to keep my focus off what had just happened and the implications that were swarming my mind.

"Ahhahaha, tanpopo, hahahaha."

Son of a dog, that was war! I was not going to let a 3 year old laugh in my face. Genius or not, I still had my pride damn it! As batered as the poor thing was.

"Shadup Bakakashi!"

Yeah, not one for the gallery of best insults.

He stopped and just looked at me, mouth a bit open. Dad was divided between amused and horrorified.

"Well, that was certainly creative. But, little one, where did you hear the word baka?"

I lost no time in pointing to Kakashi, even if the kid was innocent this time around.

"Oy, I did not…" Father didn't let him finish.

"Since he, and all his _grown up_ wisdom, saw fit to teach you that _nice_ word he can have half of the dojo all to himself." I could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Unfair!"

Revenge how I adore thee.

Denial how I love thee.

"Before we begin the cleaning we need to stretch our muscles. Never do any kind of heavy training without stretching or warming up first." He said that to me with a serious face that meant business. I nodded and once again mimicked his movements.

I did not sleep that night.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**To be continued…**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N:** So things are starting to pick up, next chap is probably the last with such light humor 'cause Kakashi gets into the academy at four and the shit hits the fan before he is a Gennin… **Any thoughts you guys want to share**?


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